Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 79

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 79. The Swordmaster’s Suspicion
Jeong Ju in Hanan, where the Yong Bong Jihoe was held, sat at the confluence of the middle and lower reaches of the Yellow River.
In ancient times, it had earned a reputation for lagging behind Gaebong and Nag Yang.
But since the Murim Maeng and the Baekga Maeng established their headquarters there, the city had swelled with people to rival those two great centers.
Rustle, rustle-rustle!
In the ruins of the Shang Dynasty Outer Fortress on the outskirts of Jeong Ju, shadowy figures began to materialize one after another.
They were all beggars in tatters, each with one or two knots tied at the waist.
“Wow! Now that’s one ugly beggar!”
“Right? Never seen one like this before?”
“Must’ve come from another chapter.”
The beggars murmured among themselves, watching a short man who appeared to be in his thirties.
At the whispered remarks of the Il Gyeol and the Yi Gyeol beggars, a beggar in his fifties—the only one wearing three knots at his waist—started visibly.
“Hey, you lot! Do you know who this is, running your mouths like that?”
“Heh-heh! Bun Ta Ju, don’t be so hard on them. A beggar’s a beggar, what does it matter?”
“Even so…”
“Our master used to say it all the time: if you start getting cocky about a few knots at your belt, I’ll tear off whatever’s left.”
With a soft motion, the ugly beggar lifted his clothes, revealing a ghastly scar that ran across his right chest.
At the same moment, eight knots bound at his waist came into view.
“Huh-hak! Wh-what?!”
“Eight knots?!”
“You mean that dog-ugly beggar is…?”
“The Hu Gai!”
The beggars were startled to discover that the man’s true identity was none other than Hu Gai—the designated successor to the next generation’s leadership.
“Hehe, good evening to you all. I am Cheol Mugu, known as the Wuyi Gai—the Fearless Beggar.”
Cheol Mugu bowed his head respectfully.
“I look forward to spending the time of the Yong Bong Jihoe with all of you. Your cooperation would be most welcome.”
“Oh my, we should be thanking you!”
“The Fearless Beggar, Cheol Mugu! A true Sang Geo Ji who charged single-handedly into the Sword Masters’ lair and lived to tell the tale!”
“Oh my, what an honor!”
Clap, clap, clap, clap!
The beggars showered Cheol Mugu with applause.
The Wuyi Gai Cheol Mugu was renowned as a true beggar whose sense of righteousness pierced the heavens.
“Hehe, please don’t praise me so much. I’m just a lowly beggar, that’s all.”
As Cheol Mugu scratched his head bashfully, lice fell from his hair.
Seeing this, the beggars’ applause grew all the louder.
They were the Gaebang—one of the Five Major Information Organizations of Joongwon.
Among the Gu Pa Il Bang, they were one of the premier organizations, and they upheld a single doctrine: the Sung Ui Yui Il.
To revere righteousness alone is the only truth.
Because of this doctrine, upon joining the organization, one had to dispose of all one’s wealth, and survival was pursued solely through begging.
The moment money enters one’s purse, righteousness becomes difficult to uphold.
“Well then, shall we proceed with the report? I hear there have been some unsavory incidents?”
“Yes indeed! On the way to Hanan, several sects came under attack by assassins!”
“By whom?”
“From what I gathered, the Sichuan Yun Ga were attacked.”
“I heard the Seok Ga Jang was attacked.”
“Just a moment ago, the head of the Yunnan branch of the Cho Ga Jang caused a commotion at the Tae Pyeong Ru, saying he lost his younger brother to assassins!”
“I hear the Namgung Clan was also attacked, though it seems they suffered no casualties.”
At Cheol Mugu’s inquiry, the beggars eagerly began to spill their information.
As he listened quietly to their account, Cheol Mugu’s brow furrowed with suspicion.
“Hmm? Aren’t all of these attacked sects affiliated with the Baekga Maeng?”
“Oh? Now that you mention it…”
“That is strange, isn’t it?”
“Coincidences happen.”
Cheol Mugu shook his head.
“This cannot be mere chance.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was deliberate. The purpose remains unclear, but something is unfolding in the darkness with careful precision.”
“Ah, you think so?”
“This sort of incident doesn’t happen a dozen times in a day, does it?”

“In the Jianghu, the chains of debt are harder to break than wine, after all.”
At Cheol Mugu’s words, the beggars murmured among themselves.
But Cheol Mugu was certain.
‘My master said it. There flows a Dark Current beneath the surface of the present Jianghu, its true nature unknown.’
Cheol Mugu trusted his master with absolute faith.
And well he might—his master was the Beggar King himself, Bang Ui Chae.
Ordinarily his master should have come to Hanan to scout the Yong Bong Jihoe, but Bang Ui Chae was too busy chasing the Dark Current, so Cheol Mugu had come in his stead.
“And the Namgung Clan was attacked as well, you say?”
“Yes, sir. The Spear Palace members boasted about it. They said Seonjeon Noe Ah cut him down in a single stroke.”
“Seonjeon Noe Ah. That would be Namgung Ho Yeon, then. Where is he now?”
Sim Deuk Bang, one of the Bun Ta Ju, answered Cheol Mugu’s question.
“By now, he’s likely meeting with the Later Generation Disciples at Tae Hwa Jeong.”
“Tae Hwa Jeong… Tsk. A place where beggars cannot tread.”
Cheol Mugu clicked his tongue.
With beggars scattered across all corners of heaven and earth, the Gaebang was unmatched at scraping together information from the backalleys.
But it was difficult for beggars to gain entry to places with any pretense of refinement.
Unless it were the Hao Mun, perhaps.
‘Could it be a self-engineered farce to raise his reputation? Unsatisfied with the title of Seonjeon Noe Ah?’
Cheol Mugu sank into thought, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Damn these minor beggars. Go there and carefully observe anyone whose strength belies his years. The ones who’ve received help from the Dark Current—their cultivation grows by leaps and bounds for some reason.”
‘If my master is right, then Namgung Ho Yeon is suspect number one. At sixteen, he drew his Geom Gi and slew the master of Baeknyak Sanjang with Ma Hoon Jam Pok.’
Cheol Mugu had investigated the incidents that occurred at the Baekga Geom-hoe two years prior in thorough detail.
And he had marked Namgung Ho Yeon, the Seonjeon Noe Ah who had won the greatest renown at the Baekga Geom-hoe, as a suspicious character.
“Keep Tae Hwa Jeong under close watch. Especially report any movements by the Namgung Clan members directly to me.”
The beggars nodded at Cheol Mugu’s request.
Teeth chattered and fell.
* * *
“Good to meet you, sir. I’m Jegal Ahyeon.”
Jegal Ahyeon bowed politely to Namgung Cheong Gang.
“Namgung Cheong Gang. So you’re Ho Yeon’s fiancée, just as I heard.”
“That’s right. I was sorry we didn’t meet last time. I so wanted to see the person Ho Yeon speaks of so proudly as his elder brother.”
“Hm? The boy should say these things to my face, not gossip about me behind my back.”
As Namgung Cheong Gang gazed at Ho Yeon with a pleased smile at Jegal Ahyeon’s words, Ho Yeon’s expression twisted in bewilderment.
‘Crazy? When did I ever say that?’
While Ho Yeon was floundering in confusion, Jegal Ahyeon’s fabrications continued in her conversation with Namgung Sang A.
“My goodness, you’re even more beautiful than I’d heard.”
“Uh, uh-huh?”
“Ho Yeon told me you’re the third most beautiful person in the world. He said his mother is first, and you are second.”
“Hmph, why am I not in first place? Tell me. Is Mother really that precious to him? And what about me?”
Namgung Sang A pinched Ho Yeon’s cheek as she protested, but her lips curved upward in a thick smile.
―Ah, indeed. To catch a general, you must first shoot his mount with arrows.
―Oniya. This woman is your lover? Impressive. She seems wasted on you.
Cheon Noe Geom marveled, while Heuk Ya Tae Geom commented with a scoundrel’s sneer.
‘Shut up.’
As Ho Yeon glared at Jegal Ahyeon with a sullen face, she winked and moved toward Paeng Gu Pae.
She was determined to forge acquaintance with all the people in Ho Yeon’s circle.
“Uncle! From now on, I’m Namgung Jegal So Mi.”
“What nonsense is this?”
“I’ve found my true older brothers and sisters. The ugly uncle has been voted off the uncle committee.”
“Well, thank you for that, Namgung Jegal So Mi.”
Ho Yeon’s expression darkened further as he listened to the bizarre exchange from beside them.
‘Ugh, when does this end? Can’t we just get to the Yong Bong Jihoe thing already?’
Ho Yeon found the prospect of beating down the cult members considerably more appealing than this social discourse.
Paeng So Hwa had told him to make some friends at the Yong Bong Jihoe, but there didn’t seem to be a single normal person worth befriending here.
‘Friends, what for? I don’t especially need such things. Friendship is merely the prelude to betrayal anyway. Except for that one…’
“Pufufu! Come on! Let’s do that! That thing!”
“What?”
“String games!”
“No. Cat’s cradle.”
“Aaaaagh!”
It was then, as Ho Yeon recalled a conversation from his years as a sword ghost, that he let out a soft laugh.
A woman who appeared to be a servant approached and extended a tray of refreshments to him.
“Sir, refreshments for you.”
“Mm?”
On the tray sat, surprisingly, Tanghulu with Mandarin Orange.
“Oh, what’s this?”
“It’s a sweet called Tanghulu that Tang Tang Tang sells.”
He hadn’t paid attention to such things before, but it seemed Tang Tang Tang had expanded to Hanan at some point.
‘Sugar’s run out anyway—good timing.’
Crunch, crunch!
As Ho Yeon took the Tanghulu with Mandarin Orange and began plucking them off one by one to eat, Jegal Ahyeon returned.
She glanced around before turning to Ho Yeon with a question.
“By the way, where’s that boy?”
“Mm?”
“Mo Yong Yul. The one who was always following you around.”
Stillness.
At Jegal Ahyeon’s question, Ho Yeon’s hand froze in mid-air.
When Ho Yeon gazed intently at the Tanghulu with Mandarin Orange and fell silent, Jegal Ahyeon’s expression hardened.
“……Ho Yeon? What’s wrong?”
“…….”
“You’re…….”
“He’s dead. That bastard.”
Crunch!
Ho Yeon spoke matter-of-factly and plucked the last remaining Tanghulu with Mandarin Orange to eat it.
* * *
“Uaaaah! Uaaaah!”
Bang! Crash and shatter!
As Cho Jin Gwang kicked the table with his foot, plates and wine cups fell and shattered with a deafening noise.
“Master of the Lodge! Please, compose yourself!”
“Let go! Let me go!”
“You mustn’t do this!”
“Uaaaah! Paaaaaeng!”
Despite his subordinate’s attempts to stop him, Cho Jin Gwang, thoroughly drunk, continued his rampage.
He’d been thrown out of Tae Pyeong Ru for the same reason, and now, having moved to another location, his outburst had started again.
“You must retire! Tomorrow’s the Yong Bong Jihoe!”
“What use is some crippled tournament! Paeng! My brother is dead!”
Bang! Crack!
Crash and clatter!
His face flushed crimson, Cho Jin Gwang shook off his subordinate and began kicking indiscriminately at everything around him.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Quite a spectacle for an outsider.”
“Seems like there’s something behind all this?”
“How should I know? Where did he learn such manners?”
“Well, get up then.”
The other patrons—clearly martial artists themselves—rose from their seats at Cho Jin Gwang’s display.
“Gulp.”
But the man sitting at the table by the window did not stand.
He gazed out at the street, poured himself a cup of wine, and smiled faintly as he muttered to himself.
“Damned fool. Hehehehe!”
“What?! Are you mocking me!”
“Who else here is a fool but you?”
“You!”
Whoosh!
Cho Jin Gwang drew his sword. But the man still gazed out the window.
“Master of the Lodge, you mustn’t! Stop!”
“Hehehehe! Let him come. Seems he wants to join his brother.”
“How dare you!”
Thundering footsteps!
When the stranger mentioned his dead brother, Cho Jin Gwang lost all reason and charged at him.
“Hehe!”
Slash!
The man threw the wine cup without turning to look back.
Though drunk, Cho Jin Gwang was a first-rate martial artist. He intercepted the cup cleanly.
He had no doubt the cup would split in half.
Crack!
“Kgh! Cough!”
But the result was different.
Cho Jin Gwang coughed blood as he collapsed, struck with the force of a hundred-pound boulder crashing down.
Thud-thud-thud!
“Kgh! Kgh! What on earth is this…!”
“Master Cho!”
Tap-tap-tap!
Cho Jin Gwang’s eyes widened as he watched the rolling cup spin across the floor, and his subordinate rushed forward to help him to his feet.
“Kgh-kgh-kgh! Are you conscious?”
Only then did the man turn his head to look at Cho Jin Gwang.
He was a middle-aged man with a cold expression, bearing a cross-shaped scar on his right cheek.
The man’s gaze was unusual—his right eye was turned outward, a severe case of strabismus.
“Y-you can’t possibly be…!”
That distinctive appearance was enough for Cho Jin Gwang to discern the man’s identity.
“Kgh-kgh! They call me Chueum, leader of the Heuksadan.”
“The Cruel Serpent Blade!”
The subordinate’s eyes widened as his hand flew toward his waist.
“Stand down. You want to die?”
“Nn…nngh…”
Whoosh!
The subordinate felt a viscous killing intent sweep across his entire body and went rigid.
The Heuksadan—an infamously ruthless mercenary band that would do anything for money.
Their leader, the Cruel Serpent Blade Chueum, was known to be a supreme master of the highest caliber.
“I-I sincerely apologize.”
“Kgh-kgh! If you’re sorry, you pay for my drink.”
“Of course. I am truly sorry…!”
Just as the subordinate bowed his head in apology to Chueum, Cho Jin Gwang’s eyes flashed and he cried out.
“Great Master Chueum! I wish to place a contract!”
At Cho Jin Gwang’s shout, Chueum swirled his wine bottle and looked him up and down.
Splash! Splash!
“Do you have money?”
“The Cho Ga Jang is counted among the foremost powers in the Yunnan region!”
“Oh?”
“I wish to hire the Heuksadan! Please, lend me your strength, Great Master!”
Thunk!
As Cho Jin Gwang pleaded, striking his forehead against the floor until blood came, Chueum licked his lips and replied.
“Let me hear it first then. Kgh-kgh-kgh!”
* * *
Two days later.
The day of the Yong Bong Jihoe dawned.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————